


Crazy Stupid Love

by WillaS



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Post-Episode: s07e25 Endgame (Star Trek: Voyager), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29405334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillaS/pseuds/WillaS
Summary: He held her gaze, damn, why did he always have to do that, and hers fell to his lips, nooo, and why did she always have to do that?“I’ve tried calling you thirty-three times,” he said. “Why do I have the feeling you’re avoiding me, Kathryn?” he asked quietly.“Because I have been. I am,” she said.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 12
Kudos: 84





	Crazy Stupid Love

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, JC lovers and believers.

“Right, Janeway,” she mumbled at her reflection in the full-length mirror. “Into battle.”  
She grabbed her shawl and exited her apartment to make her way to the very last thing she’d have to get over with before she could finally collapse into bed and sleep for a year.  
God, she never thought she’d feel like this.  
It hadn’t crossed her mind even for a second in all the years that she would regard any sort of homecoming event as something she’d want to simply get over with.  
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  
She was supposed to feel elated, proud, happy.  
Well, yes, of course she was proud, but the harsh reminder of the chains of command that had closed around her all too firmly when they suddenly burst back into the Alpha quadrant, overshadowed any notion of patting herself on the back that may have stirred in her.  
Debriefings were over, everyone was healthy and well, and Voyager was in space dock. She shook her head at the memory of the last time she’d looked at her ship. Against the backdrop of the other shiny Federation vessels, Voyager looked like she’d had been to hell and back, which she had, and which was the only reason the by-the-book Starfleet captain in Janeway didn’t give into the urge to apologize to someone.  
The homecoming bash would be held at Starfleet Headquarters, and the theme was ‘Home Sweet Home’, and as much as she was looking forward to a five course meal that consisted of nothing but traditional Earth dishes, this very predictable theme did indeed bring it home to her that maybe she had outgrown the establishment.  
She’d been promoted to Admiral almost the moment she’d materialized back on Earth, but it still didn’t sit right with her. Every time someone would address her, she wanted to turn around and look for her father.

“Damn these shoes,” she mumbled as she crossed the courtyard.  
She hadn’t worn heels like this in almost a decade, and she felt like she was on stilts. The only reason she’d worn them, apart from Phoebe telling her to, was that the dress was too long for anything that resembled comfortable footwear. “Damn this dress,” she said and smoothed it down. “And damn bloody Phoebe, always bloody meddling.”  
“Captain,” Tom Paris greeted her in the foyer. “I’m sorry, Admiral.”  
“It’s fine, Tom. I suppose it’s like I’ve suddenly changed my name, isn’t it?”  
“Admiral,” B’Elanna said and hugged her.  
“Now you’re just showing off,” Tom complained, but lovingly slung an arm around his wife.  
“Please can you two just call me Kathryn? Because that’s actually my name.”  
B’Elanna gave her a warm smile. “Kathryn,” she said, and nodded. “And I know tonight is a sort of farewell thing, but we hope to still see a lot of you. Especially Miral.”  
“Oh yes,” Tom cut in. “If her first word isn’t ‘Voyager’ we’re returning her.”  
“Oh dear,” Kathryn said and laughed, holding on to B’Elanna’s hand. “Shall we?”  
“After you, ladies,” Tom said and the door to the banquet hall swished open.  
Kathryn quickly scanned the room.  
There was a head table for a couple of selected admirals, Voyager’s senior officers and their partners, which ran into a long table for the rest of the crew and their plus ones. A series of smaller tables were dotted around the room, and she suspected they were assigned according to teams and ranks.  
A flute of champagne was put into her hand and, scanning the table one more time, she suddenly understood that she was to sit at the head of it next to her first officer.  
She promptly tripped over nothing, and Tom steadied her by the elbow.  
“Damn these shoes,” she said and shook her head in annoyance.  
“I thought you’d grown,” he said and smiled at her. “And may I just say, you look, well, sorry, but, Captain, I mean Admiral, I mean Kathryn, you look smoking hot.”  
“Watch it!” B’Elanna said and slapped his arm. Then she turned to Kathryn. “I mean, he’s right. I never knew that that,” B’Elanna said an gestured up and down Kathryn’s body, “Was under, you know, that uniform.”  
“You can talk,” Kathryn said and nodded at B’Elanna.  
“It’s the breasts,” B’Elanna whispered. “Pregnancy has transformed them, and I’m going to show them off as long as I can. I mean, they’re just, there! If you know what I mean.”  
Kathryn chuckled and nodded. “Yes, they certainly are there, aren’t they?”  
They were still laughing when she saw him arriving out of the corner of her eye.  
Her first officer.  
Chakotay.  
God, even being in the same room with him was torture now. How was she going to get through an entire meal with speeches and, horror of all horrors, dancing?  
He was without a plus one, she knew he’d be, because he was no longer in a plus one, and since they never talked about his plus one that was no more, she couldn’t very well talk to him about now being minus one, and all in all, it was just a big mess and she would have given anything for a comfortable pair of shoes to run away from it all and never stop running.  
He spotted them and made his way over.  
“Good evening,” he said, his lovely, smooth, familiar voice washed over her like a gentle breeze. Damn the man.  
“Hi, big guy,” Tom greeted him, they shook hands, and B’Elanna got up on her tip toes and kissed Chakotay’s cheek.  
“Kathryn,” he said and nodded at her.  
“Chakotay,” she said and looked at her glass.  
No one spoke for a couple of seconds, and just when Kathryn was going to start talking about the weather, B’Elanna said: “Oh for Kahless’ sake. Can you two please just kiss and make up, this is painful.”  
Before she could say anything, Kathryn found herself being pulled, by B’Elanna, against Chakotay, who had no choice but to open his arms and embrace her.  
Damn the dress, she thought again as his warm hands scorched her back through the flimsy material.  
Why were guys so lucky, she thought, being able to hide in a suit. And here she was, in this thin, silky excuse of a dress that left exactly nothing to the imagination.  
God, and his hands felt so goo—  
“Time to sit, friends,” Tom said and Kathryn as good as launched herself out of Chakotay’s arms.  
She didn’t dare look him in the eyes, but smoothed down her dress, stood up straight, and walked ahead of their little group to the table.  
“You’re very tall tonight,” Chakotay said when he caught up with her, pulling her chair back for her to sit down.  
“It’s the shoes,” she said. “I had to wear them. Because the dress is too long.”  
Oh my God, shut up, Kathryn.  
“It’s very beautiful,” he said, and she still couldn’t look at him.  
“Yes, well, thank you. Phoebe chose it.”  
She was happy when she found out that Tom and then B’Elanna, then Owen and his wife were assigned to sit to her right, on her side of the table. That way she could turn towards them all evening without that seeming somewhat strange.  
The Kims were on Chakotay’s side.  
“Let’s have a look at this then,” Tom said and picked up the menu that was placed at his seat. “I’m hoping for something fried. Like chicken.”  
“We’re on Earth, darling, they’d never serve chicken,” B’Elanna commented.  
“Not actually chicken, obviously,” Tom said. “You know what I mean.”  
“Yes, some overcooked retro bullshit.”  
“Sorry, Tom,” Kathryn said. “It’s lamb. Or should I say lamb-style lamb.”  
“Oh, I hate lamb,” Tom whined. “And what, with mint sauce?”  
B’Elanna shook her head. “Yeah, it’s all wrong. Spring greens? It’s February.”  
Tom exhaled heavily. “Where’s Neelix when you need him?”  
Kathryn smiled and kept perusing the menu.  
Then she read it again, because her eyes seemed to no longer be working, no doubt due to Chakotay’s proximity. She could feel heat radiating off of him, and she had to resist the urge to inhale deeply, or shiver, or crawl out of her own skin.  
For a crazed moment she even contemplated moving her cutlery and plates to the right ever so slightly so to move away from the man, even if only for a couple of centimetres.  
Damn it all, she’d worked next to him for seven years, surely, she could pull herself together for a couple of hours now.  
Get a grip, Kathryn.  
Almost on impulse, her hand went to the back of her neck and she started poking into the tense muscle there.  
“You alright?”  
Even though she should have expected his quiet question, she flinched.  
“Yes,” she said a bit too loudly, and quickly put her hands back into her lap. “Yes,” she said again, pulled herself together and gave him a polite smile. “I’m fine, Chakotay, thank you.”  
He held her gaze, damn, why did he always have to do that, and hers fell to his lips, nooo, and why did she always have to do that?  
“I’ve tried calling you thirty-three times,” he said. “Why do I have the feeling you’re avoiding me, Kathryn?” he asked quietly.  
“Because I have been. I am,” she said and quickly turned to Tom who was in the process of topping up everybody’s water glasses, and she quickly passed him hers to refill.  
“Even the water here tastes different, have you noticed that?” Tom asked.  
“Agreed. I prefer mine with that extra pinch of chlorine now,” Kathryn said.  
She smiled and noticed that Chakotay was still looking at her.  
God, it was all so ridiculous.  
She didn’t want to feel all these things she was feeling, and she didn’t want to behave in this appalling way, but she couldn’t seem to help it.  
She’d asked herself a million times what she’d expected. That after years of her telling him no, he’d still be waiting for her when they got back to Earth? God, she wanted to laugh at her own arrogance. At her arrogance and her vulnerability. She’d always thought a heart couldn’t break twice, but hers had dropped and shattered the moment she’d learned from the Admiral that Chakotay had moved on. Didn’t see that one coming, Janeway, did you?  
And the fact that his romance hadn’t worked out in the end didn’t change the fact that he had very clearly taken that very decisive step away from her, and just because he wasn’t with Seven any more didn’t damn well mean he’d end up back at her door, with his heart on his sleeve, all beautiful and eloquent and- Damn the man!  
And how did she know it was love anyway, and not just her hurt pride, or some distant cousin of Stockholm syndrome?  
Besides, there were other men out there.  
And if she took everyone who’d offered up on their invitations, she probably wouldn’t have to dine alone for months. Or sleep alone.  
Someone leant over her to pour the wine, and she was grateful for the distraction.  
“Don’t let me drink too much,” she’d said to Chakotay before she could stop the words from falling out of her mouth.  
Reflex.  
Habit.  
Damn it!  
“I’m sorry, Chakotay. Ignore me.”  
“You should enjoy yourself, Kathryn. Have wine. In a way, this is all for you,” he said, all dimples and pretty eyes.  
It’s not love, she thought again. Just some dimple-related amnesia or something.  
“To be honest with you,” she said, “I’ll be glad when tonight is over. I’m going home for a while. As in, Indiana. I’m going to stay with my mum for a couple of months.”  
“I know,” he said, and she watched him try very hard not to let his grin get out of hand. “Your mother invited me.”  
“When did you speak to my mother?”  
“Oh, I don’t know, after the twenty-fifth time I tried calling you and after the tenth message you didn’t reply to.”  
“So, you call my mother?”  
“Kathryn, I—”  
“No, it’s fine, I don’t care. And I’m sure she’d love to have you. She’s quite the host, and there’s certainly enough room. You two will get on like a house on fire. You can go for walks, or, I don’t know, sleep, or meditate, or, I don’t know, cook or something.”  
“She told me you may like the company.”  
Why could her mother not for once in her life mind her own bloody business?  
She knew nothing.  
“I have other friends, you know, Chakotay, I just haven’t seen them in seven years. I won’t be lonely. You’re not my carer.”  
Kathryn reached for a glass, picked up the wine one by accident, and took an angry gulp.  
That went down the wrong way.  
She coughed.  
And coughed.  
“You okay?” Chakotay said and was halfway out of his chair and ready, no doubt, to perform some sort of emergency first aid on her, but she pulled him back down to his seat by his sleeve, waving him off.  
Tom Paris ended up hitting her not so gently on the back, and she managed to recover without crying off most of her mascara.  
Kathryn, get a hold of yourself, she thought and flippantly held up a knife to look at her reflection.  
Fine.  
It was fine.  
Everything was fine.  
“I don’t want to be your carer, Kathryn, and I never thought I was. First and foremost, I want to be your friend,” he said, and his right hand grabbed her left ever so gently, and as gently, he leant into her and spoke. “What’s going on? This isn’t you. Please talk to me.”  
His thumb brushed over her skin, and she felt electricity shoot through her with lightning speed.  
And maybe it wasn’t love, but the fact that she’d simply been deprived of human touch.  
“I’m still a bit overwhelmed. I’m sorry,” she said, and it wasn't even a lie.  
“I understand. But, Kathryn, it’s just me.”  
She wanted to laugh.  
Just him.  
Just a friend.  
God, was there anything more devastating than the man you love offering you his hand in friendship?  
She looked up at his face and smiled at him.  
Once more unto the breach, Kathryn, she thought. She could do this.  
After everything he’d done for her, she owed him at least her friendship.  
“I’m sorry,” she said, and she meant it. Of course, she meant it. With all her broken heart.  
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said and looked down at their hands. He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed.  
She took in a quick breath which made her cough again for a moment, and before she could say anything else, Chakotay’s hand was gone, and Owen Paris stood to address the crew and their families.

Despite her initial reservations, the meal turned out quite a joyous affair. She talked to the Paris clan, and ate more food than she pushed around her plate.  
Owen wouldn’t stop talking about Miral, and at one point even B’Elanna rolled her eyes and said: “You know, that’s not the only thing we did out there, Owen.”  
“Well, we did that a lot,” Tom said which earned him being elbowed in the side.  
“Ouch! B’Elanna!”  
Kathryn leant into him and whispered: “Do you think your father is ready to hear about his salamander grandchildren?”  
Tom’s face instantly lost all its colour, and Kathryn actually snorted.  
She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, and in one unguarded moment she looked over at Chakotay who was watching her, eyes beaming. But there was also something else there. She took a deep breath but didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned back to Tom Paris.

After dessert and coffee, the speeches continued.  
Kathryn was surprised at how many people wanted to take the opportunity to address the entire crew just one more time, thank them for such an extraordinary journey, and share hilarious anecdotes.  
Lieutenant Carter thanked the command team especially, and when Kathryn felt Chakotay’s hand once more reaching for her, she took it without reservation.  
From enemies to colleagues to friends to almost lovers again and again.  
Their journey had been as extraordinary as that of Voyager.  
And yes, they were a bit bruised and battered, but they were still there, weren’t they?  
Just when she thought he was taking his hand away again, she felt him drawing a shape on her thigh.  
And again.  
And again.  
Always the same shape.  
An unmistakable shape.  
She looked at him, but his attention was focused on his finger that was tracing the outline.  
She followed his eyes, and there it was.  
A heart.  
He was drawing an invisible heart onto the soft material of her dress.  
She sat perfectly still and maybe she’d even stopped breathing until he finally looked up at her through dead-serious eyes.  
“I…,” she stuttered. “I don’t understand.”  
“Really? You don’t?” he whispered.  
“I…what…No, I don’t understand.”  
“You’re the smartest person I ever met; do you think you can work it out?”  
“I…but you…”  
He looked nervous but then unleashed his dimples, and suddenly she was physically shaking.  
“I was an idiot,” he said, and those dimples suddenly became her lifeline. Pulling her to safety, pulling her in, back to him, back to herself.  
“Which time?” she asked quietly.  
He huffed out a tiny laugh and traced another heart shape on her thigh.  
“That time I crashed your thirty seventh shuttle,” he said before his eyes lifted up to hers like in slow motion, and she wanted to just melt into her chair.  
For a moment there was nothing but him and soft, soft laughter.  
She’d stopped listening to what was being said in the room, she couldn’t drag her eyes away from his, and all sensations were focussed on that small space on her upper thigh.  
On that invisible heart shape that thrummed with that energy they could create so effortlessly simply by allowing their eyes to linger on the other.  
He turned towards her another fraction and leant in.  
“I’m in love with you, Kathryn, surely you know that.”  
“I…didn’t…I mean, I thought, I don’t know. Maybe it isn’t love, but—”  
“Harry, we’re up,” Tom Paris shouted over their heads, and gestured at Harry that they were next to give their speech.  
Kathryn felt like she’d suffered some sort of emotional whiplash.  
She dragged her eyes away from Chakotay, her brain not keeping up at all, her heart was doing what it wanted already anyway, and she sat ramrod straight in her chair wondering what in all hell was happening to her.  
She drank some water.  
Was it hot in here?  
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” Tom Paris started, and gentle laughter rippled through the room.  
Chakotay pulled his chair up closer against the table and closer to her, and then his hand was back.  
He drew another heart.  
Hers was absolutely pounding.  
Then his hand abandoned tracing this practiced outline and started wandering. He slid it down towards her knee and up again.  
She didn’t dare look at him.  
Didn’t dare move.  
He repeated his journey to her knee and back up.  
Then he increased the pressure ever so slightly and slid his fingers towards her inner thigh.  
She bit her lip.  
His hand travelled down towards her knee and back up again, but this time in tiny little circles that came up and further up and up and—  
She swallowed a moan, but couldn’t help the goose bumps, and when she looked at him this time, she saw something she’d only ever seen the faintest traces of: desire.  
He looked like a wanted to devour her.  
Her nipples went so hard it was almost painful, and she wanted nothing more than to touch them, and when he noticed this change in her body, he licked his lips, and she could have sworn he growled.  
“God,” she whimpered and shifted in her seat, leaning on the table, but spreading her legs as far as the dress allowed.  
His hand continued its sweet torture, and every once in a while, he’d allow a couple of fingers to brush down all the way between her legs.  
Another minute of this and trying to at least pretend to be listening to what Tom and Harry were saying, and her whole body was on fire.  
She wiggled in her seat under his delicious ministrations, but he did not let up.  
“You’ve got to stop,” she whispered, her voice shaking.  
“Or what?” he asked and applied more pressure.  
She squeezed her eyes shut and took in a shaky breath.  
“Please stop, I’m so turned on.”  
“Spirits, Kathryn,” he whispered. “I want to watch you come so badly.”  
“Not at the dinner table,” she said, and gave him a helpless look. “With B’Elanna and Owen Paris right there.”  
“I don’t care,” he whispered. “Besides, dinner’s over.”  
God, the things the man could do with his hands. And she was still fully clothed.  
She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath.  
He really would make her come if he continued this.  
She was so wet it was embarrassing.  
“Please stop, Chakotay, I’m dying here,” she pleaded.  
“I’ve spent so many years fantasizing about touching you,” he confessed so quietly. “And I don’t want to waste another second.”  
She bit the inside of her cheek in a desperate attempt to stay with it.  
“Is that why you called me a thousand times?” she asked. “To watch me orgasm?”  
“Yes,” he said with almost brutal certainty and God, she could have come from just the look in his eyes. “I’m done waiting. I always understood why you needed things to be the way they were, and I honestly thought at one point that you were over me, and I hated it, but I respected it, and then I wondered if I could move on, but I couldn’t. And having watched your reaction to me and Seven, I realized that you weren’t over me at all, and ten minutes later we were back on Earth, and I wasn’t willing to wait another moment.”  
“To make me come?” she asked.  
“Well, I may have lied about that when I spoke to your mother, but yes.”  
“I’d like to watch you come, too,” she said and God, when had she ever spoken like this in public? And Owen was, well, right there… “I want to look you in the eyes when you come inside me. It’s one of my favourite fantasies.”  
For a long ten seconds he looked like he was going to actually clear the table and have her right then and there.  
They were pulled out of the moment by applause as Harry and Tom’s speech had concluded.  
His hand left her thigh so he could clap, and she clapped and smiled, too.  
Tom announced that dancing would commence, and a wall was pulled aside to open up the dancefloor area.  
The band started playing, and Tom took the microphone again.  
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. I think you will all agree that the first dance should belong to no other but our brave, and tonight rather tall leader, Admiral Janeway, and her first officer, Commander Chakotay.”  
No, she thought. She was positively dishevelled.  
She gave Chakotay a pleading look, but he just flashed his dimples, stood up, and held out his hand for her.  
“Here be dragons, Commander,” she said, and together they made their way onto the dancefloor.  
“No funny business now, I lead,” he told her, and she laughed.  
“Be my guest.”  
He pulled her against himself, and they started the slow waltz.  
“Stop looking at your feet,” he told her after a few seconds. “I’ll catch you.”  
“It’s just that the shoes—”  
“Are too high, yes, I know. But I’ll catch you.”  
She held onto him more tightly and looked up into his eyes.  
“Are you okay?” he asked.  
“Yes, very okay. Are you?”  
“Will you spend the night with me?” he asked, his words alone were a caress to all her senses, and she knew she was blushing furiously.  
“Yes,” she said.  
“Good. Because I really want to ask you to marry me, but I think it would be somewhat prudent to not test out the merchandise before committing to something like that, wouldn’t you agree?”  
She stumbled instantly, but he caught her.  
Of course, he caught her.  
Like he’d always caught her.  
Exactly as he’d promised her again and again and again.  
And at that moment, she understood it.  
And she could finally let go.  
“Yes, I will spend the night with you,” she said, slung her arms around his neck and pulled his head down.  
They stopped moving the moment their lips met.  
There was nothing at all for three seconds.  
Then everyone went berserk.  
She felt his smile, but he deepened their kiss and pulled her completely off the floor, and that’s when she knew; It was love.  
Crazy, stupid love.


End file.
